Revelations
by LittleMissMorbid
Summary: ."Before Derek can respond, she says, 'He’s my brother,' There’s that stupid word again. Irritation begins buzzing in his head." Based on Wynn11's challenge.


Wynne11's story prompt:

_College is approaching. What happens when Casey find out who her new roommate is?_

_Words:2,917_

To the readers of _Ghost—_

Alan makes a cameo appearance.

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

Casey is a control freak. She enjoys plans and logic; they comfort her, silence her anxiety with their whispers of structure.

The move in-date was actually two days prior to her arrival, but Casey had timed it that way. She needs time to find herself in that tiny little dorm room, before her roommate arrives and the silence was gone. The boxes of files, the bookshelf, the snack foods, water bottles, the clothes, the secret photo album, they all need time to find their place too.

It's a fresh start. A bare canvas, ready to let her strive. Casey is happy and sad and excited and terrified.

Derek drops her at her hall—literally, shoving her out of the car and dragging her stuff out quickly. She had looked at the long winding steps, sighing at the task that lay before her. She had expected this as well. He'd been acting odd since the night in the kitchen. She'd mostly ignored it till now.

Well, she didn't have time for his antics anyway. She was fine without him. Really. This is the day she'd been dreaming of.

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

That night, the loneliness swallowed her up, making her choke. She missed the familiar sounds of home, the smells, the chaos, the familiarity.

Casey tries to ignore it. It's common, she tells herself, to miss home. She's been mentally preparing herself for the severing of her family. She just wasn't prepared for how much it was going to hurt.

Between the waves of sleep and acute awareness, she wonders if Derek feels the same.

Derek was initially irritated at Casey's proposition to move in early. They'd fought George's suggestion of sharing an apartment—well¸_ he _had fought, Casey didn't seem to care as much as him. So George told him Casey was right and sent them along early.

He got there, in that unfamiliar place with its looming buildings and strange faces, and a pang hit his gut. Casey had been right (she usually was).

Derek doesn't care much about where his stuff goes. As long as it fit somewhere, it was fine with him.

At night, though, when the shadows surpass the moonlight and take over, he feels the aftereffects of being alone.

He's glad his roommate isn't here yet.

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

Casey's roommate is the bubblegum-chewing, bottle-blonde, anorexic ditz that usually hung off Derek's arm. It's a little appalling, having to share such a private place with a girl that regularly listened to rap and hip hop, grinding to the music like she was trying to have sex with the floor.

The hazel eyes look her up and down, lips forming a pink bubble as she assesses the brunette before her.

"Hi, I'm Casey."

Get this, she actually _extends _her hand out for a shake, like this is some kind of executive meeting.

Rachel ignores it.

"Rachel."

Casey smiles tightly, smoothing her light pink blouse down.

"So, what are you majoring in?"

Rachel raises a brown eyebrow, derision sparkling in her eyes. "Look, I'm not into this small talk thing, and I kinda gotta unpack anyway, so why don't we just pledge to stay out of each other's shit and we'll get along fine."

Casey chuckles, nervousness tingeing her smile.

"Right. Heh. Sorry."

Casey decides to go to the library, because in all of her eighteen years of living, books have never been rude to her. She decides to get a head start by reading the first chapter in her textbooks.

When she gets there, the doors are locked. A sign cheerily tells her to please attend the freshman orientation occurring the next evening.

So, she's stuck outside, where it's a little cold, the breeze bringing a chill to her skin.

It's okay, because it's quiet and she's even able to read a whole page before the loneliness hits her again.

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

Derek's roommate is named Alan. The boy's approximately a foot shorter than him, with wire rimmed glasses and a limp. He owns a computer two sizes larger than him, and regularly carries books with names like _The Fundamentals of Physics _for fun.

Alan is also dark-haired, with giant green eyes and limbs the size of sticks. As far as Derek can tell, he's not much of a conversationalist and was suspiciously conservative in terms of his attire.

It makes him uncomfortable, to be around someone so disadvantaged and yet _not _at the same time.

He saw the way his eyes first noticed the hockey sticks in the corner; then noticed the pile of sports equipment under his bed. In the first three minutes of meeting him, Alan has managed to deduce all the necessary information about his polar opposite and offers no chance for greetings.

It's even worse to witness the poor attempts the boy makes at unpacking—half the boxes reach his torso, and he has to spend ten minutes turning the box upside down to empty it of its contents.

He doesn't ask for help though, and Derek doesn't offer.

Derek wonders if he can possibly feel any shittier in that particular moment.

So he leaves, without so much as a farewell to his vaguely disturbing roommate. A chance to be alone will do them both some good.

He's just wandering, really, with no destination in mind. Casey crosses his mind more than once, but the thoughts are quickly waved away.

On his quest to _not _think of his stepsister, Derek actually bumps into the living thing, watching her as she sits outside. _Reading. _In that typical weirdo Casey way.

She looks up, meets his stare, and says nothing.

He doesn't either, and strolls past. Only when she's looking at her book again does he take a quick glance behind him.

Casey fakes reading until his footsteps disappear and she heaves a big sigh.

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

Alan doesn't even look up when Derek comes back. He's far too engrossed in the tiny characters on his computer to notice the taller boy staring at him.

When he rises from the chair, numerous bones crack in resistance. His hand absentmindedly searches for the cane, and he turns around, heading to the door.

Derek notes the subtle flames at the end of the item, and chuckles.

Alan whips his head toward him, eyes blazing as his lips set in a firm line.

Derek's eyes nearly bulge out of his head and he backtracks quickly, "Sorry, I just noticed the House reference. It's not…I mean…I wasn't laughing because…you're…" he makes a weak motion at the cane.

"A gimp?" Alan mutters bluntly, "It's okay, I'm not going to dissolve in self pitying tears if you actually say it."

Derek stays silent.

"And no," Alan says as he's exiting out the doorway, "I didn't get shot in the leg."

Derek actually manages a weak smile at the joke.

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

Dinner is intimidating. Even Derek is a little weary of eating, something he was usually happy to partake in. The mass of eyes and mouths offer no comfort; many of his peers seemed content and mingled with confidence.

He spots the hockey team, and even though he was barely introduced at orientation, Derek decides he might as well sit with the guys that are most likely to be cordial.

Some big guy—Aaron or Cody or something equally jocklike and predictable—slaps him on the back.

"Hey, fresh meat. Ya better be careful, Venturi, we could crush you."

At first he's surprised the guy remembers his name. Derek shrugs, relaxing with a cocky smile. "I'm scrappy."

It's not a particularly witty or humorous statement, but the group explodes in raucous laughter regardless.

Casey witnesses this, sitting two tables away from him, picking at her cooked carrots. _Figures he'd be popular,_ she thinks with chagrin, _he had no problem in high school. _

She's sitting next to five other girls but they express no interest in getting to know her. Three of them are involved in laughter and squeals, the other two taken in a serious discussion about the sororities on campus.

Casey sighs, and the loneliness hits her again. She decides optimism is the best approach, and tells herself she'll make friends when classes start.

Meanwhile, Derek thinks he's going to develop bruises if Aaron slaps him on the back one more time. Brett, some blonde guy with a rather bad set of acne scars, tells him the women on campus like to play hard to get.

Derek wonders if it's the girls, or if it's the guys. He suspects it's the latter and their lack of charm (see: frat boy personas) but wisely chooses to stay quiet.

Later, Greg, the captain, invites him to a party. Who is he to decline?

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

The party is perfect. It's loud, sweaty, and a perfect place for a distraction from a certain brunette and her family. The best part is, there's no need for conversation—a bowl's being passed around in one corner, the beer in another. Plenty of kids on e gush and swoon erratically to the music.

The women are nice too—many chose to simply wear shorts and a bikini top. He spies a blonde, smacking bubblegum and grinding to Eminem that's blaring through the speakers.

"_I scrutinize every word, memorize every line  
I spit it once, refuel, re-energize and rewind  
I give sight to the blind, my insight through the mind  
I exercise my right to express when I feel it's time  
It's just all in your mind, what you interpret it as  
I say to fight, you take it as I'mma whip someone's ass  
If you don't understand, don't even bother to ask…"_

She catches his stare and smiles flirtatiously, using her tongue in incredibly interesting ways as she sipped alcohol from a straw.

The blonde begins to saunter towards him when suddenly, Casey is pulling one of her typical weird moments—that is, actually appearing at a college party in her sensible shoes and nervous expressions.

Derek is tempted to leave her alone—it'd be a good learning experience for her—but he knew he'd never hear the end of it if she got in trouble.

He grabs her arm—much to blonde girl's distaste, as she pushes past the drugged bodies toward him—and pulls her away.

"What are you doing here, Casey? This isn't your scene."

Casey shoots him a look—a resentful stare—but actually nods, with a sigh.

"Rachel wanted me to be the designated driver."

The girl in question reaches him finally, a perky smile gracing his features. "Casey, hi! Do you two know each other?"

Before Derek can respond, she says, "He's my brother."

There's that stupid word again. Irritation begins buzzing in his head.

"_Step_brother." Derek quickly clarifies.

Casey glances at him. "Same difference."

And like every other time, he's consumed by her and only her; the music's still blaring, the disembodied eyes still roving wild, but still, all he sees is _her. _

"Far from it, Case. Like I'd ever want _your _keener genes."

Casey crosses her arms. "Like your smelly, slacker genes are something I'm _really _coveting."

"I happen to know quite a few women who wouldn't mind, Princess."

"Like any of them are actually going to amount to much besides being insipid, vain suburban wives."

"Emily would resent that."

_That _riles her up. He loves the way her eyes turn alight and the way her cheeks flush when she's angry—she's absolutely, positively, irresistible.

"You know I didn't mean her."

Derek shrugs, smirking. Rachael has gone, clearly impatient with the two of them, and he likes it that way—just them.

"You were generalizing, Case.**"**

And then Casey just deflates. The anger's gone, her cheeks no longer sporting the blush it had a few seconds prior.

"I have to go back to my room now. I have to study in the morning." She says flatly.

Derek watches her go.

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

Rachel is pretty pissed the next morning. She screeches something about how promises are sacred, or some crap like that.

"I could have _died," _she shouts melodramatically, "I could have been _raped._"

Casey looks at her blankly, no longer interested in befriending her.

"This is a library." Casey states obviously.

"So?"

"You need to be quiet, people study here."

She huffs. "News flash, keener, _you're the only one here!" _

Which totally isn't true. There's a few librarians up front.

"Rachel," she begins calmly, "why don't you get some sleep, maybe eat something for a change."

"Whatever." She turns on her heels and leaves. Her short skirt leaves her back exposed, and in small curvy letters is the word _Princess_.

Casey snorts. Yeah, right.

After that, Rachel suddenly becomes a kleptomaniac, stealing her jewelry and makeup, trashing the room, coming in at odd hours and being purposely loud as she chews her stupid gum and talks to her stupid friends.

Four weeks into the school year, Casey decides something needs to give.

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

Derek doesn't see Casey much. Hockey keeps him busy, girls keep him busy, even schoolwork keeps him busy sometimes.

He's a little grateful he doesn't have her around 24/7, but it doesn't stop him from thinking of her.

(And she visits him in his dreams, causing him to sleep on his stomach from then on forward).

So when she randomly appears at his room, looking a little too thin and a little too tired, he's actually a little concerned.

Alan's the one that let her in, actually. Derek hadn't arrived until evening, carrying a slice of pizza and a soda. He nearly dropped everything when he saw her on his bed, looking like a withered old lady.

"Your sister's here," Alan says, not looking at him (he can actually carry on a conversation without having to look at Derek once—it's a little disconcerting).

"Stepsister." He clarifies.

Alan just shrugs.

"Hey Spacecase, looks like your grade grubbing got to ya."

She ignores the comment and looks at him with such intensity he has to glance at the food he's currently chewing to get away from it.

"Remember what George said about the apartment?"

Derek shrugs and continues eating.

"We move in on Friday."

His food nearly lodges itself in his throat.

"Wait, _what? _I never said I was going to room with you, Spacey!"

Casey finds the strength to stand up, looming above him threateningly. She uses her index finger to poke him after every word when she says, "I am sick, _Derek. _Of my roommate, of this stupid school, of trying to study and not getting anywhere—they want you to move in because they think it's safer. I told them I'd get a dog, it'd be a hell of a lot more polite than you, but that was the deal. So goddamn it, Venturi, you're moving in with me until I can I can convince them otherwise."

Casey sighs and sits back down on his bed.

"I don't care if your roommate doesn't like you!" he whines, "Why punish me?!"

Casey just grumbles about complaining to their parents instead and flops back down on his bed, where she curls up and refuses to move.

(She really does look sick, and even he's not mean enough to kick her out in that second.)

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

The phone call home provides a little more information.

"So _why _are you making me move in with her?" Derek asks, as soon as he hears his father's voice.

"No I love you's or anything for your old dad, huh?" George responds wryly, "What did she tell you?"

He can hear Lizzie and Edwin arguing in the background. Derek realizes he's kind of missed hearing all of that screaming and running around.

"Just that you wanted me to move in with her because that was the _deal _and that she's too much of a baby to handle life by herself." Derek snarks.

George sighs. "Could you two _try _to be civil? I know this isn't the most ideal living arrangement but after what the doctor said, I think she could benefit from—"

"What doctor?"

"She didn't tell you?"

"Dad, _what _doctor?"

"The campus one. I mean…how can you not know about this? We were going to call you and she said no, she'd call you herself. She collapsed last week. The doctors told us she was okay, just overworked, and I mean Nora wanted to come but with the baby so close—"

It clicks, then, that Casey is hiding a lot more from him than he thought.

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

When he comes back into the room, rage is running through is veins and even Alan jumps when the door opens with a bang.

"What the _hell, _Case? You didn't think to tell me of the little story about you, oh, I don't know, maybe _collapsing _and having to go to the _doctor?"_

"I was going to tell you," Casey says, looking up at the ceiling, "Just…later."

"Bullshit!" Derek spat out. "They think I've been looking after you all this time!"

"Like you would have wanted to!" Casey screams back.

Alan takes the slight lull in the argument as a chance to scram.

"You think I'm just this horrible guy, Case, but I'm not that bad."

"I don't think that," she says quietly.

"Then why the fuck didn't you tell me?"

"Because."

He just stares at her.

"Because for four years, it's been Casey-and-Derek, Derek-and-Casey! And you hated it, you hated being associated with me, you hated having to hang around with me and I was just trying to do you a _favor, _okay? But it ended up fucking up anyway."

Derek wonders where all of this bitterness is coming from; if she's always hid it or if it's something new.

"I don't _hate _being around you."

Casey doesn't say anything.

"I'll room with you, all right? Just promise me something."

"What?" Casey asks tiredly.

"Don't make me eat that nasty vegetable soufflé, okay?"

Casey lets out a breathy chuckle. "Deal."


End file.
